


I just know

by jjKingi



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Anya & Lexa (The 100) Are Siblings, Bogan Stud Lexa, Clexa, Doctor Clarke, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Innocent Clarke, Party girl Lexa, Sassy Lexa, Slow Burn, clexa au, go with it guys, hospital au, it was a scooter though not a motorbike, maybe based on some true events, still waiting for her to respond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-15 05:19:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8043991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjKingi/pseuds/jjKingi
Summary: Lexa has an accident before a big night out. After the shock and the hangover subsides she realises that there was something about her triage doctor that she can't quite put her finger on. When she figures out the connection she decides she can't ignore what her gut is telling her, so with a little encouragement from her bestie she acts on her hunch. Fluff and angst ensue, as happens with all worthy pursuits!





	1. Dazed and Confused

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so confession time. This happened/is currently happening to me. And in order to work through my current angst I have resorted to writing about it. Wish me luck!

The sky outside the emergency wait room began to cast an orange glow over the hills in the distance. Lexa sat awkwardly on the uncomfortable plastic chair as she balanced the thawing bag of frozen peas on her swollen foot.

She had only been sitting a few minutes and was occupied with her own thoughts when a young doctor called her name. She pulled herself out of her daze and hastily raised her brow in response. The doctor approached with a clipboard in hand.

“Lexa?” she confirmed. “Its your left foot that’s injured?” Lexa simply nodded and haphazardly tried to gather her belongings.

It seemed crashing her bike hadn’t been the only mistake Lexa had made today. While football shorts (with no pockets), a singlet and low-top chucks were perfectly adequate for pressure washing the outdoor terrace at home it didn’t offer much protection when she came skidding off her motorbike on the way to the store. It also left her with a strategic dilemma for how to carry her wallet, phone, old tea towel, bag of peas and her discarded shoe now that she had acquired some crutches in triage.

“Would you like me to carry your things?” The doctor asked in a distinctive accent.

“Um, yeah. If you could that would be really helpful. I can take my shoe though, I don’t expect you to carry my filthy shoe.”

* * *

 

“So what happened?” The doctor asked as she pulled the curtain in the cubicle and sat in the chair next to where Lexa had finally settled.

“I crashed my motorbike at a roundabout. I kinda saw this car approaching and I thought I better do the right thing and stop to give way, but when I hit the brakes the front wheel locked up but the rear didn’t, so I sort of went for a skid. The car I was giving way to was going so slow I should have just kept going.”

At this point the rum and nurofen Octavia had given her when she arrived home had begun to feed her mild shock, and speaking became a difficult task. The doctor offered her an understanding smile.

“Did the paramedics attend? Have they checked you for any head trauma?” She asked inquisitively. A brief smirk touched Lexa’s lips as she recalled her recovery.

“No, it was a little embarrassing actually. I didn’t want to hold up traffic. I lifted the bike back upright, straightened the mirror and got it going again. I didn’t notice how bad my foot was until I got to the store and tried to walk on it.” She explained.

“How long ago did you crash?” The doctor asked.

“About forty-five minutes ago.” Lexa replied. “When I got home my housemate gave me a rum, some painkillers and these peas. But it doesn’t seem to have done the trick.” The doctor laughed with her patient.

“Ok,” Clarke said as she sat the clipboard down and pulled on a pair of gloves. “Lets take a look.”

The blonde doctor knelt and began to lightly examine the swollen foot, listening for the tiny whimpers and sharp breaths that helped indicate the damage, apologising frequently for her methods.

“Looks like we will need to do an x-ray to get a better picture. You don’t remember if it twisted or jarred when you crashed?” The doctor asked as she removed her gloves. Lexa shook her head.

“I don’t really remember the details. There were people on the street and it’s a busy intersection. I didn’t want to make a scene so was just really focused on getting back up and on the road.” She realised now that perhaps she was in a little bit of shock and maybe traffic flow shouldn’t have been her main concern.

“Did you hit your head at all?” the doctor asked with an air of concern. Lexa chuckled at the insinuation.

“No, I was wearing a helmet, and there isn’t a scratch on it.” She replied.

“Oh good,” The doctor replied satisfied. “One more question,” She added timidly as she picked up her clipboard again. “Is there any chance you might be pregnant?” Lexa chuckled more animatedly this time.

“Ah, no. No chance of that.” She answered, amused at the absurdity.

* * *

 

Lexa sat in the lazy boy chair in one corner of the exam room. When she first arrived there were two old ladies each occupying adjacent corners across the room, but they had now been admitted to wards, leaving Lexa to amuse herself.

Her phone was running dangerously low on battery and she knew she would need it to phone Octavia to pick her up so she switched it off, not trusting her own idle fingers to conserve what was left.

She inspected the instrument panel above each chair in each corner of the room, daring them to be different somehow – they weren’t. She then inspected her own elbows and knees after noticing she had left a small bloodstain on the sheet covering the chair. So far the doctor hadn’t even acknowledged that her left knee was completely scraped raw, and she wondered if the woman would dress them before she left.

The doctor is into chicks for sure, Lexa thought to herself, strangely confident for someone who claimed to have no gaydar whatsoever. Why did she think that? She interrogated herself. The doctor didn’t have any tells, she was polite, gentle, almost awkward and nervous, but that didn’t mean she was gay.

A nurse led a young man into the only fresh exam chair left in the room. This was obviously not his first rodeo. He sat still and composed as the nurse pulled over an IV trolley. He spoke timidly and looked like he had been making the same pair of jeans and t-shirt last all week. She made considerate small talk with the guy as she inserted the line into his arm and set the flow of the bag. She was nice too, and polite and attentive, but _she_ wasn’t gay, Lexa thought.

Under the influence of the fading rum, some supermarket painkillers, the persisting shock of the accident and the searing pain in her foot, Lexa’s thoughts continued their abstract thought pattern. She was beginning to feel cold, the frozen peas on her foot had begun to spread a chill up her leg. She looked down at herself slumped in the chair with her foot up in front of her. What a mess, she concluded. The peak of her cap rested against her neck, pushed back earlier when she had scratched at her low ponytail in frustration after she knocked her already sensitive grazed elbow on the trolley next to her.

At least nobody would have difficulty guessing _I’m_ into girls, Lexa self-mocked.

Tattoo stretching half an arm, check.

Dark denim snapback, check.

Polarised Oakleys hanging from the neckline of her singlet, check.

Pocketless rugby shorts, check.

Oversized singlet with zombie apocalypse reference, check.

Visible, brightly patterned sports bra, check.

Well worn and discoloured converse sneakers with laces that have never been tied ever, check.

Lexa checked her watch, again. 6.15pm. She was meant to be getting ready for her sister’s farewell barbeque. They had a big night planned and if she was being honest she only came to ED to get crutches so she could go out that night. All week she had been looking forward to a few drinks, a bonfire and then heading into town after. She just hoped Octavia hadn’t started drinking already because she was going to make a run (or hop) for it if the doctor wasn’t back soon.

“Hey, really sorry for the wait,” The doctor offered as she returned. She took a cautious seat on the chair again as Lexa painfully shifted the wet bag of peas over her elevated foot. “I wanted to get a second opinion from a colleague and it took a little longer than expected.”

“All good,” Lexa replied casually, as if she hadn’t been planning to ditch the hospital only four seconds earlier.

“My colleague agrees there is no fracture. But obviously there is a lot of swelling and soft tissue damage. Ice it, on and off, just like you have been. Keep it elevated, and stay off your feet.” The doctor instructed.

“Ok,” Lexa nodded. Fat chance, she thought to herself. She had an unopened bottle of Grey Goose waiting at home and she could already hear the bonfire crackling from here.

“If it doesn’t show signs of improvement in the next week then come back and have it looked at again.” She reached into her scrubs pocket and pulled out two boxes of tablets and a medical certificate. “Don’t take the ibuprofen without food, and don’t take more than eight paracetemol per day, it can cause liver damage.”

“Got it.” She replied.

She pulled the soggy peas off her foot and threw the bag in the bin close by. She carefully and painfully pulled her ankle sock on her swollen cold foot and slipped on her shoe. She stood and began to collect her things, unashamedly finding stowage in her bra for almost everything while the awkward doctor watched on.

“Are, um, the crutches set up ok for you?” Clarke asked before Lexa got a chance to reach for them. “If you don’t get it right they can really dig into your pits.”

“Um, I’m not really sure.” Lexa replied almost startled as the blonde doctor lifted one to inspect the height setting.

“How tall are you?” Clarke asked, suddenly confident in her newfound task.

“A hundred and sixty five centimeters.” Lexa replied.

“What’s that in feet?” Clarke asked, suddenly unable to calculate. “Never mind.” She dismissed, clicking the leg down a few stops on the crutch she held then passing it to Lexa. She adjusted the second aid and let the brunette test it out.

“It’s good, perfect.” Lexa insisted, though they were still too short. She didn’t dare give the doctor another reason to delay her again though as she thought of all the vodka that was waiting to be consumed.

Lexa hobbled out towards the exit, her doctor following close by to open the door for her patient.

“Thanks,” Lexa smiled as she hopped her way past the door.

Once she was out in the warm humidity of the evening she parked up against a ledge by the drop off zone and pulled her phone from her bra.

 

**Lexa:** O _, I’m free. I got crutches, lets do this!_


	2. Here, have my dignity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa becomes obsessed, Anya thinks it's ruining Parmy night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so it is officially 11 days since I messaged this chick. No reply. I don't know if thats because its in her 'others' folder or of she has read it and is currently filling out the paperwork for a restraining order...  
> If you are interested the message Lexa sends is an exact replica of what I sent, and oh boy did I take about 5 years to settle on what to write.  
> My friend has suggested adding her as a friend on Facebook... I feel like thats a bit creepy and maybe a little too soon to start panicking, but I guess if I add her it will ensure she see's my message. Seriously open to suggestions guys!
> 
> As far as this story goes, even if my real life doctor doesn't reply I reckon I've got the goods for the story... based on what I would plan for the first couple of dates if this chick says yes so yeah, I don't know if thats romantic or super creepy.

Lexa woke the next morning to the sound of a lawnmower buzzing around the yard next door. Groaning at her interrupted sleep in, she pulled her way towards the edge of the bed. As she swung her feet to the ground and pressed down to get to her feet she nearly collapsed into the dresser by the door.  
In her hungover daze she had forgotten her injury. She scrambled onto her good foot and reached out for the crutches carelessly strewn beside her bed.  
It seems drunk Lexa didn’t have a problem with the major soft tissue injury she had sustained the day before, and now hungover Lexa was paying the price.

Lexa carefully lay back into her bed with her hands full of ice cream and potato chips, careful to avoid the sensitive wounds on her knees and elbows. She made herself comfortable and settled in for a long stretch of Netflix.  
She found a safe place for her goodies before reaching for the ibuprofen and some soda water to try kill the headache that was forming and to relieve the pounding in her foot. It seemed dancing was not her best idea of the night.  
As she closed the box back up she couldn’t help notice the messy writing on the prescription sticker of the box. Dr Clarke Griffin. _How does someone with over eight years of tertiary education write like a five year old_ , she wondered to herself. When she considered the doctors utter lack of concern for her bleeding limbs it didn’t really surprise her, but when Lexa replayed the warm bedside manner of the blonde, she couldn’t help forgive the medical negligence.

Halfway into the third season of Shameless, Lexa’s miserable solitude was interrupted by a loud and impatient bang on her bedroom door.  
The door swung open and a sweatpant-clad Anya invited herself into her sisters room, taking a seat on the bed and passing Lexa a brown bag containing delicious smells.  
“You are the best sister, have I told you that?” Lexa announced, tentatively sliding up into a sitting position and peering at the bag with lust.  
“Yeah, you really don’t deserve this after making us wait half an hour to get into the Factory last night.” Anya snarled as she made herself comfortable and reached into her own bag of KFC goodness.  
“I’m sorry, again, for the six-hundredth time ok.” Lexa replied, trying to decide what to eat first. “It’s not my fault she wasn’t working. She does exist though, I promise.”  
“Let’s go to Factory, let’s line up outside for half an hour.” The dirty blonde mocked with a deadpan expression. “Nobody lines up for Factory Lexa, I certainly _do not_ line up for fucking factory.”  
“Face like an angel, chiseled jaw, deep brown eyes, glowing tan and seriously Anya, those glasses.” Lexa replied half chewing on a chip. “I never knew I had a kink for the hot librarian type.”  
Anya looked at her sister with mild disinterest.  
“She must only work week nights!” Lexa tried to claim. She had been trying to convince Anya that she had seen the most beautiful woman in the world since she layed eyes on her a week earlier during their weekly thirsty-Thursday parmy night at Factory Bar. Only it had been the one Thursday Anya couldn’t come and despite Lincoln and Octavia backing her up Anya wouldn’t believe it until she had seen it herself.  
“If the daughter of Zeus and Xena actually did exist, the likelihood of you actually making a move is nil. So I don’t know why you are so worked up about it.” Anya taunted. Lexa rolled her eyes.  
“Probably.” She conceded. “I guess she’s not my type really.”  
Anya laughed in amusement.  
“Not your type? You are such a snob Lexa, oh my God, Octavia introduced you to one of her softball friends, one of her incredibly hot softball friends, and you somehow managed to simultaneously look down your nose and avoid eye contact.”  
“Ok, so drunk me is a little picky.” She admitted, hands raised in surrender.  
“A little picky?” Anya repeated in feigned shock. “Taking pineapple off your pizza is a little picky. I think I’ll go ahead and order you that spinster-pack of cats now, get it over and done with.  
“Ha ha.” Lexa droned out. “Life is good, ok. Why fuck it up for someone that’s not totally worth it.” She added proudly.  
Anya stared at her sister with her eyes bulging from their sockets whilst she chewed her burger.  
“I just want someone nice, honest, and intelligent.” Lexa stated simply. Anya’s bulging eyes rolled back into her head.  
“And not too skinny, or fat. Nobody that likes Green Day, or has short fingers, or is too loud, or too submissive, nor anyone who is willing to drink warm beer.” Anya listed. Lexa had her mouth open waiting to interject before Anya confidently continued her speil. “Nobody who puts the toilet roll under, or wears jeans with sneakers, or drives a van, or likes Jazz music, or doesn’t…”  
“Ok, stop.” Lexa pleads. “I get it.”  
“These are all excuses you’ve used to turn someone down or end a relationship.” Anya stated. Lexa shrugged.  
“Guilty.” She confessed. “But like I said. My life is great, why change that for someone less than breathtaking?” Anya shook her head at her sister.

Thoroughly disappointed by the anticlimactic finale of Shameless, Lexa snapped her laptop shut and rolled over into the warm blankets. She reached for her phone and started trolling through Facebook. She found herself utterly disinterested in all that was on offer, clicking out of the app and shoving it back onto the bedside table.  
As she did, the box of ibuprofen fell off and onto the floor. She reached down to pick it up and she caught her eye on the messy blue scribble on the pack. Her curiosity grew as she pulled up her recollection of her visit to the hospital the day before. The Doctor was into girls for sure, Lexa was so confident of this, and unusually so. It was a joke amongst their group how absolutely terrible Lexa was at detecting the non-straights. Anya had amused herself on many occasions replicating the sound of a railway crossing as girls approached a naïve Lexa, warning her very obnoxiously and very publicly of her proximity to an interested suitor. Somewhat amusing in a busy bar, not so much in the relative quiet of the local hardware store.  
Reaching back for her laptop, Lexa opened facebook in a new window and searched the name of the doctor. Even if she wasn’t out and proud about it, chances were if she was interested in girls there would be something to indicate it. A rainbow profile picture somewhere, maybe a few comments on the community forum.  
She typed in her name, Clarke Griffin, and narrowed the results to people. It was a relatively unique name so she was confident it wouldn’t take long to find.  
Then there it was, a strangely familiar face with wet, dark blonde curls and a pair of white Ray Bans looking mildly disinterested.  
She knew that picture, she remembered flicking through a couple of other options in the blank profile before deciding that the white glasses and deadpan expression wasn’t for her. She had swiped left and thought no more of it.  
Feeling somewhat disappointed at her judgment, she clicked on the Facebook profile to find out a little more.

**Clarke Griffin**  
Former Lifeguard at **Alpha Community Pool**  
Former Retail Assistant at **Arkadia Bookstore**  
Lives in **Polaris, Australia**  
From **Arkadia, DC, United States**

Of course, Lexa realised, the accent was American. She had presumed it was North American of some sort, and now the doctor’s confusion with her metric height measurements were explained.  
She scrolled through the very few pictures that were available for public consumption, noticing that Clarke’s smile was equally appealing whether dressed in a hoodie and jeans or a dress and heels.  
Lexa sighed a self-loathing huff, the weight of the laptop pressed on her bladder punishingly. She closed the window and slapped the lid of her laptop shut.  
_You are a snob_. She chided herself. It was a hopeless type of reprimand, one that was not at all accompanied by real intentions of changing. Her only genuine regret being that she had actually found the Doctor to be quite adorable and a thousand times more attractive in real life than the pictures on her profile had advertised.  
Confidently, she reached for her phone and pulled up the flame-logo app. She opened it and went through the process of re-activating her account. Without bothering to adjust anything other than the sex and age parameters, Lexa began swiping. Furiously.  
Polaris was a small town, only 40,000 people and not another town or city within 500km. Because of that, Lexa’s swiping came to a disappointing end within a few minutes. She growled frustratingly to herself. Perhaps she hadn’t paid close enough attention.  
Taking time to ensure all her selections were made on purpose, Lexa disabled her account again and reactivated, presenting her with the list of prospective women once again. This time, as she swiped left through the pack of profiles she took the time to read the names, just incase her new fixation had decided to use a different picture. Again, she exhausted her options without finding the blonde doctor. _She must have grown bored of this stupid app, just like I did_ , Lexa thought to herself, refusing to believe the shy doctor may have been snapped up by a less judgmental pursuer.

 

“So, let me see if I have this right.” Anya asked cutting furiously into her cheese and tomato covered crumbed chicken. “You swiped left on your emergency doctor and now you know she’s hot, you have critical remorse?”  
Lexa glared at her sister, aware of the way her predicament had painted her. Anya laughed heartily though her mouth was full with dinner. Lexa’s glare endured, so Anya made an effort to swallow her food and take a sip of her beer.  
“She doesn’t sound like much of a doctor, to be honest.” Anya declared as she cut back into her chicken parmagiana. “She didn’t dress your bleeding limbs, or strap your foot and honestly Lexa, how do you trust someone who has spent eight years in university but can’t convert metric into imperial?” Anya asked, punctuating her argument with another bite of food. Lexa took the bait.  
“ _I_ can’t convert metric to imperial.” She defended. Anya raised her brow expectantly.  
“This is Australia, Lexa. What true-blue Aussie knows their height in feet?” She asked as she continued chewing.  
“She did get me some painkillers, she didn’t have to do that.” Lexa offered as she brought her own beer to her lips.  
“They weren’t even good drugs,” Anya stated with a repulsed expression.  
“Do you think there is a rule, you know, where doctors can’t date their patients?” Lexa asked, like nervous little puppy.  
“Hardly think she doctored you enough to worry about it.” Anya replied, focused on her meal. She swallowed her bite and looked up at a silent Lexa, realising her sister was genuinely concerned with the question. “I mean, sure, there are probably professional guidelines and integrity standards.”  
“So I guess feigning excruciating pain and waiting in emergency to see her again probably isn’t the best plan.” Lexa offered weakly. Anya stared at her sister.  
“I doubt you would have to fake it much, all I’ve heard you do over the last few days is whine about your foot.” Lexa rolled her eyes back at her sister.  
“I don’t want to sit there for three hours just to see her, only for her to turn me down because of professional integrity.” Lexa admitted.  
“Sounds like the prefect reason, at least that way its not because she’s not interested.” Anya teased. “When was the last time you put yourself out there and genuinely risked rejection?” Lexa shrugged, taking a mouthful of dinner to conveniently render herself unable to speak.  
Anya let the inquisition drop, finishing the last of her beer.  
“So I take it you won’t mind if I make a move on hot barmaid librarian?” Anya asked tipping her head in the direction of the attractive brunette at the bar.

The crutches were driving Lexa mad. It had been over a week since the accident and she sat in the meeting room at work as her boss made her a cup of tea. The entire situation was a cause for anxiety, especially since Lexa prided herself on strength and self-reliance. She had been working on this image for a while, especially with her manager, Indra.  
Her phone quietly hummed on the table and Lexa blocked out the temptation to pick it up and see what her sister’s latest dig concerned. Indra sat at the table across from Lexa and placed a steaming mug of tea beside her pen.  
“I can put Tristan on the remote run this week, you can take some time to stay in the office this week and catch up on some paperwork.” Indra offered.  
“Thanks Indra, but I’ll be fine driving.” Lexa tried to convince. “I mean the crutches slow me down a little but you know I just sit on cruise control most of the time anyway.” Lexa knew driving a manual four wheel drive was going to put strain on her leg, but there was no way she was going to sit in the office all week.  
“The certificate from the doctor at the hospital said automatic driving only.” Indra replied dubiously.  
“I have an appointment after lunch today with the my GP. I promise Indra, if she says I can’t do it, I wont.” Lexa offered, trying not to let her desperation look too obvious. Indra nodded. She got up from her seat and took her cup of tea with her.  
“If you’re still on crutches, you’re not going Woods.” She said on her way out the door.  
Lexa huffed to herself, in an almost triumph.  
She let her temptation fold and reached out for her phone.

**Anya:** _Do it, what have you got to lose?_

Lexa tapped her phone against the armrest of the chair and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth anxiously.  
She looked back at her phone, contemplating what exactly she did have to lose. Its not like she had run into the doctor around town so far, if she got turned down then it was unlikely she would ever have to face her.  
She had logged into tinder every single day since she had her accident and still there was no blonde in white sunglasses.  
Lexa took several deep breaths, and opened her messenger app. She typed the letters of the doctor’s name and clicked on her avatar.

**Lexa Woods:** _Hey, I don’t know if you remember me but I came into the hospital a few weeks ago after a motorbike accident. This might be a little bizarre and if it makes you uncomfortable I completely understand, but I was wondering if you would like to get a coffee with me sometime? Lexa_

She read the message at least five times to herself, with her thumb hovering threateningly over the send button. _I sound normal_ , she judged. _I sound polite, non-threatening, not creepy at all_. It was more of a prayer than an observation, and with the last spark of Anya’s encouragement giving her courage she tapped her thumb on the send button and watched as her words became immortalized in the text of her, so far, one sided facebook conversation.  
No going back now, she grimmaced.


	3. Stage-5 Clinger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short update. Turns out Lexa is a hopeless romantic, but will her efforts be rewarded? Fuck I hope so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so I actually couldn't add this girl and the prospect of not knowing if it was in her others inbox was driving me mad. So I ordered flowers tonight. Some of my friends think I'm mad, some think its adorable. I just fucken hope this girl thinks its romantic and NOT creepy!

**Anya:** _No reply?_

 

Lexa sat at her desk avoiding any actual work progress, occasionally moving the cursor on the screen to delay the screensaver from revealing her actual lack of productivity. She looked at the message on her phone screen from her sister.

Anya had finally made the move interstate, but the messages and phone calls from her older sister had been so frequent it was as if she was still only across town.

 

**Lexa:** _Nothing. I think it went to her others folder._

**Lexa:** _I have an idea..._

**Lexa:**

**Anya:** _Spit it out_

**Lexa:** _What if I sent her some flowers._

**_Anya Calling_ **

 

“Shit!” Lexa cursed as she fumbled to answer the phone. “Yes?” She greeted, clearing her throat.

“Do not send flowers.” Anya instructed. Lexa could feel the shocked expression ooze through the phone.

“Girls like flowers, don’t they?” Lexa argued hopefully.

“Baby sister, you met this girl once, just add her as a friend on facebook.” Anya encouraged. Despite Lexa’s nonchalant confidence and obscure habit of rejecting women, she knew there was a soft core inside her sister, one that bled roses, matching tattoos and heart-shaped chocolate.

“I can’t add her as a friend, it’s been two weeks since I sent that message. It will look weird.” Lexa complained. She scratched her pen on the notepad beside her laptop.

“It’s cheaper than flowers.” Anya countered.

“Anya,” Lexa dismissed. “I don’t care about cost.” The soft tone in her voice caused Anya to sigh. She didn’t respond verbally, remembering a past lesson along the lines of ‘if you have nothing nice to say’.

“Have you ever met someone who just seems… right?” A second sigh echoes through the phone.

“Bub, you met her once.” Anya replied tentatively, “And you didn’t even mention her when you got home from the hospital.”

“I know,” Lexa replied, her pen scratching a second row of petals into her flower on the notepad. “But I think that’s because I was in shock and I was in a lot of pain, so I didn’t realise straight away.”

Anya listened patiently; it wasn’t often that her sister was real about how she felt, or honest about anything personal. So she waited on the other end, allowing Lexa the time to decide what it was she wanted to say. She heard the young brunette suck in a deep breath, letting her lungs fill before slowly exhaling.

“You know people always talk about being loved, wanting someone to love them.” Lexa began confidently, like a child who finally had an answer for their teacher.

“I think that’s the point of relationships isn’t it?” Anya offered, taking the bait. Lexa smiled to herself and shook her head.

“It’s not what I look for.” Lexa replied bashfully. “I see a person and I ask myself if I could love them, do I want to love them?” She continues, unable to shake the smile on her cheeks. “I don’t need to be loved more, I have everything I possibly need. I have you, and Lincoln. I have never felt unloved or unlovable for a day in my life. My life is great.”

“Yes, I recall a certain proclamation a few Sundays ago over a bag of KFC.” Anya replied. Lexa laughed nervously, gathering up her thoughts and painting them with humble courage.

“It doesn’t matter how much somebody loves you, if you don’t love them back the relationship means nothing. Too many people fall into relationships because they crave what the other person gives them - attention, affection, sex, money, praise, affirmation, reputation.” As she speaks she realises her confession is quickly turning into a sermon. “I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want someone with money or status? You realise you are chasing a doctor right?” Anya inquires.

“It’s not about that.” Lexa dismisses. “There was something about her. Something humble. She was helpful and empathetic.”

“So she had good bedside manner.” Anya offered.

“It wasn’t that. I just feel like she was real. I can’t explain it, but I could love someone like that.” She took a breath at her own confession. “Somehow, I just know.” After a brief pause another sigh came through the phone.

“Ok,” Anya conceded, she wasn’t about to deny her sister the first shred of attachment she had declared in years. “So add her as a friend on facebook. At least she will get a notification.” She explained. “Fuck.”

“What?” Lexa asked.”

“Shit, I’ve got to go Lex. Boss is here.” Anya explained. “I’ll call you later. Add the girl and let me know how you go.”

“Ok.” Lexa replied.

Lexa opened another window on her laptop and typed in the woman’s name. Three letters in and the computer auto-filled the search bar and it took Lexa straight to Clarke’s facebook profile, the most frequently visited page over the last three weeks.

She wanted Clarke’s attention, she wanted to know if she had picked up what the doctor was putting down in ED that night. Thoughts of dating the girl, getting to know her and making her smile had increasingly consumed Lexa’s idle thoughts for the past three weeks.

She sucked in the deepest breath her lungs could hold and exhaled slowly, letting the influx of oxygen send her blood rushing.

As if possessed by a more courageous and self-assured being, her hand moved to the touch pad and the cursor shifted up to the _Add Friend_ button, or at least where the button should have been. But it wasn’t there. _I’m going mad._ Lexa concluded as she carefully read the options on the girl’s profile. But there was no option there.

 

**Lexa:** _I can’t add her, privacy setting won’t let me._

 

Lexa slumped dejectedly back into her seat. She stared out the heavily tinted window of her office and watched the wild flowers on the ledge of the building across from her wave in the breeze.

 

**Anya:** _Fuck._

**Anya:** _You could just hurt yourself again…_

 

Lexa considered this for a brief moment, but her moon-boot clad foot reminded her how undesirable that option was.

 

**Lexa:** _THAT would be weird_

**Anya:** _Guess you will just have to send the flowers…_

 

Lexa was torn. Part of her was delighted that her original idea was valid. Without the choice of simply adding the girl on facebook she had only two options if she wanted to keep pursuing this girl. Send flowers and risk looking like a stage-5 clinger, or show up at her work and risk a restraining order. _Fuck, why am I like this?_ Lexa began to work herself up about the negative outcomes of both options until she was interrupted by the buzz of her phone.

 

**Anya:** _Stop fretting and send the damn flowers._

**Lexa:** _Ok!_

**Anya:** _No roses and nothing red or pink ffs. Just be cool._

 

Lexa rolled her eyes at her sister’s message. She opened another window on her laptop and searched local flower stores.

She scrolled thought the gallery of arrangements waiting for something to stand out. Then she spotted it, a simple yellow arrangement. There was one rose, but it was yellow, flanked by some daisies, lilies, carnations and orchids. _Perfect,_ she decided _._ Lexa clicked on the item and began to fill in the delivery details. It would be sent tomorrow to ED. The next page asked for a message. She tossed it over in her head for a few minutes, having to move the cursor on the screen a few times to avoid the screensaver, until she settled on a simple message.

 

_Clarke,_

_Check your facebook messages ‘others folder’_

_Lexa_

 

Before she could overthink anything she pressed confirm and entered her credit card details.

Lexa exhaled audibly. She closed the florist page and found herself back on Clarke’s page. _I should send an updated message._ She tapped her fingers on the desk as she thought, then as soon as the words formed in her mind she tapped them out on the keyboard and hit enter before she could chicken out.

 

**Anya:** _So?_

 

**Lexa:** _< Picture>_

**Lexa:** _I think yellow says ‘hey I’m interested, and friendly, and not a murderer or a crazy psycho’_

**Lexa:** _Then I sent her another facebook message, that said:_

**Lexa:** _Hi, sorry if the flowers were a bit much. I wasn’t sure if you got my previous message and I didn’t quite know how else to get your attention without looking like a weirdo… flowers probably make me look like a weirdo.  
Anyway, if you are available and willing I would still really like to buy you coffee or dinner sometime._

**Lexa:** _Too much? Too forward?_

**Lexa:** _Fuck what have I done_

**Anya:** _Hahaha! Yes, so you. Very cute._


	4. Update on the real situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go...

Ok guys, so fun fact... when you make a pass on a medical professional you met while receiving care, you place them in an impossible position where they have to report the incident to the Medical Practice Authority. DON'T DO IT!!!

Needless to say this will not be a happy ending in real life. But once the dust settles and I am sure I haven't had an harassment notice filed with the police, I will continue with this story in a FICTIONAL capacity where the characters are not based on a naive idiot and a super professional medical practitioner from the real world. 

I'll make it worth the wait, I promise!

In the meantime let it be known, not All girls want flowers randomly sent to their place of employment...

**Author's Note:**

> Its late and I have only proofed once so let me know if there are any mistakes... just note I'm from Australia so certain spellings are different.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment, always nice to read what people think.


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